Sherlocksel
by neivalyssa
Summary: As Sherlock and Mycroft decide to run away from their parents, are they ready for the adventure that awaits them?


(A/N) Got the idea of writing a fic with this theme several months ago and I've written a chapter, then I saw the Hansel and Gretel reference in The Reichenbach Fall and went "WHAT?". Excuse my ramblings. Please proceed.

PS. I don't guarantee that this fic will be updated on a regular basis as I write when I feel like it.

**Disclaimer**: I do not own _Sherlock _nor "Hansel and Gretel"

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><p><strong>Chapter 1<strong>

"For God's sake, Adeline, we're starving!" yelled Richard Holmes to his wife, furiously stomping up and down the living room. "If we're not going to get rid of them then we shall die out of hunger. You know very well our food supply doesn't suffice for the four of us in this time of famine."

"I will not abandon our children just to please our stomachs! We are the ones who should be nurturing them, even if it means meeting our death." The mother tried to persuade the father into changing his mind. The clock struck eleven times, letting the inhabitants know that it was an hour before midnight.

Behind the door of a bedroom, Sherlock was silently listening to the conversation; his brain processing every word his parents had said. Pangs of guilt and misery were felt by the 13-year-old. He didn't want to upset them. He decided that he and his brother needed to leave to save their parent's lives. The heated discussion outside continued and he approached a bed that wasn't his.

"Mycroft, Mycroft. Wake up." Sherlock firmly shook the elder boy who was in a profound sleep. They shared the bedroom together and Sherlock hated it, but there was no other option as there was no other vacant room in the Holmes Cottage.

Mycroft curled into a more comfortable position than he was before, pulling his blanket until it covered his head. "Stop it, Sherlock. It's not morning yet."

"Listen to me." demanded Sherlock by using that particular tone of voice. Mycroft reluctantly sat up as the younger Holmes did the same on the edge of the bed. "Father and Mother are having a row about our limited food stock. Apparently they don't have enough to feed all of us. I suggest we better run off somewhere to keep them from starving. We'll get to fix ourselves at a place where there will be enough meal for us."

Mycroft stared at his brother's face, his eyes searching for traces of humor and glee. But there were none and Sherlock was looking at him expectantly, waiting for a response to his previous plan. The former sighed, got out of the bed and walked to the door. He leaned onto the rather fragile sheet of wood to prove the authenticity of his brother's words. After a few moments, his face turned paler; his expression unreadable.

"Well?" Sherlock noticed the change on Mycroft's features by the dim light from a lit candle.

"I think you're right. Even if I think you're wrong I'll have to be with you anyway, since I am your brother."

Sherlock got up and started packing some of his clothes into an old bag. He put on his shoes that were a bit too small for him and was reaching for his coat when Mycroft made a sound that resembled disagreement.

"We're not to leave Father and Mother without telling them, Sherlock. They must be worrying about us as soon as they knew that we're not anywhere in the house."

"How are we going to tell them, Mycroft?" Sherlock whispered crossly in his brother's direction. "You do remember what happened when Father found us still awake when it was past ten?"

Mycroft nodded. Hell, that was the last time they made the mistake of staying up late. Their father didn't like it and made sure they knew that by flogging them for about half an hour. "I'll write a note instead, they'll find it in the morning."

As he went to get a pad and pencil, Sherlock tapped his fingers impatiently onto his bag and contemplated whether he should bring his experiments along or not. As if reading his mind, Mycroft said, "Don't bother about your experiments. We'll find plenty of them in the way."

Bugger, Sherlock thought.

Finally Mycroft had finished packing his things and used the candle as a paperweight for the note. He cautiously listened for any sign of their parent's argument earlier but it seemed that they had turned in for the night. Sherlock opened the window latch carefully and the two climbed out into the night. The moon had escaped from the clouds, letting the Holmes brothers bask in its silvery light.

**Reviews are as welcome as cakes and candies to Mycroft!**


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